anything to get even with Highman about.'
'That was different!' she insisted with typical feminine logic. 'That was because you got me all excited when you came in smelling like that. That was because I couldn't control myself. It was strictly for my own pleasure, and it made me feel guilty. But this is for revenge, and I don't feel guilty at all.' As if to drive home her point, she parted the folds of the poncho, straddled my lap, and neatly impaled herself.
'I see,' I said, not seeing at all.
She stayed quite still for a while, thinking, her face reddening with obvious anger as she thought. I was somewhat torn myself. My natural instinct was to start moving like crazy, of course. But I didn't want to take a chance on sidetracking her from anything important she might be about to tell me about the S.M.U.T.-Nyet- Highman mishmosh. I noticed Lagula adjusting his rear-view mirror and realized we were putting on a show for him. I wondered just how much of a show we might be putting on for the rest of the traffic we were passing. It was considerable at the moment, and we were crawling along in a jam reminiscent of mid-Manhattan at theatre time. I decided the situation was ridiculous.
'Look, why don't we postpone this until later?' I suggested to Ilona. 'And you can tell me what you know about Highman and the rest now.'
'Are you rejecting me?' she asked indignantly. 'Because if you are, I won't tell you a damn thing!'
'Tact, Mr. Victor,' Lagula murmured from the front seat. 'Hell hath no fury like a lady scorned. But be sure it is Highman's scorn which remains uppermost in her mind.'
'Of course I'm not rejecting you,' I assured Ilona soothingly. I bounced a bit to prove my enthusiasm.
'Ahh!' she responded, bouncing right along with me. 'Well then, let me start at the beginning.' She nuzzled my lips with her breast, and I opened them to receive it. 'I was seventeen years old when I first met Peter Highman.' Her womanhood continued to clutch at me thythmically as she spoke. 'That was two years ago and -'
'What's going on here?' A voice at the top of the side window of the car interrupted her.
I looked up. Lagula had been forced to stop the car at an intersection. And now a Salisbury traffic cop was peering into the back.
'It's all right officer,' Lagula said quickly. 'The gentleman and the lady are engaged. She is merely sitting on his lap to see better out the back window.'
'Yes,' Ilona agreed without missing one twitching movement under the cover provided by her skirt. 'Is there a law against sitting on my fiance's lap? If not, then wy are you bothering us?'
'Sorry.' The cop touched his cap apologetically and moved away.
Our car began inching again as Ilona resumed her story. 'At that time, two years ago,' she said, digging her nails into the back of my neck and slamming down on my thighs with each frantic downstroke of her passion, 'I was oversexed. Now, you may find that hard to believe, but I really was.'
'I don't find it hard to believe,' I panted, straining to keep up with her.
'At least Peter Highman said I was oversexed,' she said, enveloping me with ripple after ripple of her sudden climax, 'and I believed him.'
'Few are the things upon which he and I might agree,' I grunted, keeping a firm grip on her hips so that she wouldn't bounce right through the roof. 'But -'
'Yes, I believed him. Ahh! Ahh! Ooh! Aah! That was good! Now again!' She had subsided momentarily, but then she started again, moving in slow, churning circles. 'After all, I was a simple farm girl in Hungary when he found me.'
'How did he happen to find you?' I was biting hard on my lip and concentrating on the pain to keep from ending matters before Ilona finished her story. By now I had realized that it was sex which was making her so loquacious, and I couldn't risk turning her off.
'By sticking a pitchfork into a haystack. I was – umm – playing there with a field hand. That pitchfork stabbed me right in my bare sitter. I still have the scar. You want to see it?' Ilona was innovating now, rocking with a gentle motion that caressed the entire length of my manhood.
'Maybe later,' I told her, tensing my muscles for the same reason I was biting my lip. 'Go on with your story. What was Highman doing on a Hungarian farm in the first place?'
'Working for S.M.U.T.'
Now, that was interesting! I had thought Highman's connection with S.M.U.T. was only because his wife headed up a chapter. Now it seemed that he was much more deeply involved. Not just in New York – which I'd guessed after seeing him with Ilona at the airport – but internationally. 'How does an outfit like S.M.U.T. operate in an Iron Curtain country like Hungary?' I wondered aloud, still rocking right along with Ilona.
'Undergrond,' she told me. 'But with a lot of infiltration in the government, too. The Commies are notoriously moralistic, you know. That makes it easy for S.M.U.T. For instance, Highman had been sent to Hungary because the illegitimate birth rate had dropped. I don't understand that even now. I mean, you'd think S.M.U.T. would be pleased by that. But they weren't. Highman said they weren't because the reason was that more birth-control devices were being used, and while there were fewer illicit conceptions, there was lots more immoral love-making.' Ilona wriggled tantalizingly, as if to demonstrate her point. 'Anyway, Highman was sent to my district to organize small watchdog groups that would put a stop to it and punish the people involved. Highman spoke perfect Hungarian; you couldn't tell him from a native. And in the hinterlands where we were, party control is kind of loose, so he didn't have any trouble getting things organized. I guess the neighbors must have told him I had a sort of reputation as a wild kid in the area, and so he led a bunch of them down to give me a lesson in morality. As I said, they caught me in the act.' She contracted expertly, as if to show me that it had been, and still was, quite an act.
I bit through my lip and somehow managed to hold back the release of my passion. 'Go on,' I said through clenched teeth.
'Well, when they caught me that day, they insisted that my father give me a strapping in front of the whole bunch of them. I was already pretty sore from the pitchfork, but tht didn't stop dear old Dad. He pulled up my skirt and pulled down my panties and beat me with his belt while the whole bunch of them watched. I'll never forget their faces. They may have been spouting morals, but there wasn't a man there who wasn't itching to lay hands on my bare and twitching
'Including Highman?' I asked, unable to stop myself from thrusting upward in response to her tight-clutching movements.
'Yes! Yes! Yes! Including Highman-Highman-Highman!' She was off again, her body shaken by one tremor after another of release.
It was much harder now – more difficult, I mean – not to join her. A sudden cramp in my leg was the only thing that enabled me to control myself. It was agonizing, and I concentrated on the pain, purposely prolonging it to reduce the boiling point of my lust.
'Highman, yes.' She subsided, not through, but merely resting a moment between explosions. 'He tried to look stern while my father was beating me, but I caught him licking his lips. And I wasn't surprised when he came to see me a few days later. Still, I was pretty young and naive. I believed him when he said he only wanted to help me fight my own evil passions.'
'Evidently he wasn't too successful,' I observed, made conscious of the fact that her oven of love was starting to rekindle itself.
'Surprisingly enough, at first he was. I bought the reform bit hook line and sinker. He almost had me shouting Hungarian hallelujahs!'
'Hallelujah!' I echoed, pounding the exclamation point home.
'Did you call, Mr. Victor?' Lagula asked.
'No. Just keep driving.'
'You too,' Ilona instructed me, her enthusiasm mounting again. 'So anyway,' she continued, 'Highman converted me to the S.M.U.T. cause. And just about the time he had me really convinced, something must have exploded inside him because he raped me.'
'That's hard to swallow.'
'Goodness, you're not supposed to!' She pulled her breast from my lips in alarm.
'I meant your being raped.'
'Oh. Well, he did. One night in the parlor after my folks had gone to bed. He was explaining to me how evil sex
